Twenty-five years! A quarter of a century! How could this time have passed so quickly? My baby…my youngest…my last little one.

My children are nearly 16 years apart. That wasn’t how I planned it. We were putting her daddy through medical school, then residency, then setting up a practice so there just wasn’t any time. Finally we decided, it was now or never…and we set about bringing this beautiful soul into the world.

Those were the days of science. I was 36 years old. Ovulation predictor kits can take all the fun out of making babies. The first month flat out didn’t work. The second month I was in Atlanta visiting my dear friend, Cande. As luck would have it, the spot turned blue while I was there. I was lamenting to my friend that this was going to be another wasted month. Her precocious little three-year-old who was playing on the floor near by piped up and said, “My daddy can help you. He makes beautiful babies!” I thanked her and told her I already had a daddy picked out.

The third time was the charm, and nine months later this beautiful old soul joined us. She was captivating. Strangers would cross the street just to touch her hand. When I carried her around in my arms, she held court. People always commented on her eyes. She wasn’t necessarily an easy child. It was a challenge to keep up with her. She could read the alphabet at 17 months old. She is sensitive and artistic. She is my free spirit. My alternative, tattooed hippie chick, Earth mother who’s dance gives me great joy.

This one was devastated when we lost Mr. Virgo. She was only 15 when he came into our lives. Introducing a stepfather at that age can go either way…either he’s going to blend in well or it’s going to be a nightmare. I needn’t have worried…she fell in love with him just as I had. They were very close, and losing him was her first experience with death. It is so difficult to see your children in pain and nearly impossible to help them when yours is nearly drowning you.

She had a tough road between my illness, divorce, and losing her “second dad” but she worked hard and made it through. I am proud of the woman she has become.

Happy Birthday, Pookiest!

❤

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.

Psalm 127:3-5 ESV